


we brethren are

by remindmeofthe



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics, he's inexplicifics's, i love that that is an official tag, the original character is NOT original to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remindmeofthe/pseuds/remindmeofthe
Summary: This is the first time Aedirn's crown prince has borne witness to such horror. Eist remembers what that's like.A missing scene of sorts inspired by"Into the Light Out of Darkness."
Comments: 27
Kudos: 367
Collections: Accidental Warlord and Extras





	we brethren are

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Into the Light Out of Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372836) by [inexplicifics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics). 



> Hello, I have officially joined the horde of people inspired by the Accidental Warlord AU. This will make zero sense if you're not caught up through "Into the Light." I am sadly not presenting you with an AU of an AU, which would normally be my jam, but so many people have done such good stuff with that that I decided to stick to the series canon. Thanks to inexplicifics for the playground and the blanket permission to play in it!
> 
> Please note that if the revelations in "Into the Light" were disturbing for you, this ficlet does **not** touch on them in any detail all.

Eist is, privately, a bit relieved by the speed at which he and Crown Prince Xenon are shown back outside. It speaks well of the White Wolf, that preserving the prisoners’ dignity is his main priority. Bringing in representatives to bear witness is one thing; allowing them to be gawked at like some kind of spectacle is quite another. Eist is learning more by the minute about the man behind the force of nature that’s taken half the Continent.

It also allows himself and Xenon to emerge back into the sunlight at haste. And for Xenon, barely in time; he’s stuck close enough to Eist that Eist can sense his trembling just before the boy gives in to it and, hand over his mouth, runs to the bushes surrounding the keep. The guards from Aedirn and half the witchers surrounding them follow, fanning out with their backs to the prince and wearing expressions that state, _very firmly_ , that they have no idea that the person they’re protecting is currently vomiting up his last three meals just behind them.

Eist does the same at first, adopting the thousand-yard stare of a soldier accustomed to waiting. Only for a moment, though, before Eskel Amber-Eyed approaches him. Or, as he’d clearly been expecting, them, but he casts a glance toward the bushes that saves Eist from having to explain.

“We’ll be here a while,” he tells Eist. “The Duke is allowing them to burn this place down after the servants have been rounded up.”

“We’re fine to wait,” Eist says, doubting very much that the no doubt soon-to-be-former Duke’s permission actually mattered. The captives deserve to destroy their prison, and more than that, the permission given by the _White Wolf_ to burn this building to the ground will speak volumes to those who might think that they, not being royalty, can get away with supposedly smaller offenses. It is well to remember that the Warlord of the North hasn’t gained the power and the ground he has by accident.

It was wise of him to choose to spare the Duke’s life, though, rather than cornering whoever Redania’s new ruler will be into making that decision in front of whatever nobles will be left. A few years ago Eist would have assumed it to be a simple act of thanks for the Duke’s own choice, but the White Wolf’s grasp of political subtleties has been improving since his consort’s arrival in his court. Maybe he knows now at least some of why killing the keep but not the Duke is also the _smart_ thing to do.

Eskel Amber-Eyed nods and departs, and Eist looks toward the bushes again. Through Aedirn’s guards and the accompanying witchers, he can just see Xenon, still on his knees and shaking. Eist takes a breath and, gesturing his intentions to his own guards, walks over to Xenon. The boy’s guards part, slowly, and Eist drops to his knees next to him.

Xenon looks up and, when he registers that the person next to him is Eist, flushes scarlet. “I know,” he says. “I should have control of myself.”

Eist exhales a little sigh and puts his hand on Xenon’s shoulder. “You’re young,” he says, “and your father has had no cause to send you to battle. This is the first true horror you’ve seen, isn’t it?”

Xenon blinks, startled; some of the color begins to fade from his face. “. . . yes,” he offers.

“I threw up after mine, too,” Eist confides, giving the boy a small smile. He waits for a moment, for Xenon to relax a bit, before he continues, squeezing Xenon’s shoulder, “There is no shame in reacting strongly today. It means only that you have a good heart.”

It doesn’t surprise him when Xenon’s eyes fill with tears; sometimes, kindness is the one thing a person just can’t take. Eist tells him what his own father told him after his first battle.

“We have some time. If you need to cry, do it now.”

His father had turned away from Eist’s tears, to offer him the illusion of privacy. Xenon, though, is soft in ways that even young Skelliger royalty can’t afford to be; Eist slips his arm around the prince’s shoulders as he cries.

(The part of Eist that never really stops being king reflects on the potential future impact of his actions on his two countries: Xenon will be a gentle king, and he will remember that, in this overwhelming moment, Cintra’s Skelliger king was kind to him.)

Xenon weeps for only a few minutes before he begins to pull himself together. Eist sits back a bit, and waits.

“Thank you,” Xenon says eventually, voice steady if a bit quiet.

Eist is aware, as he answers, that the witchers guarding them can hear him and are certainly listening. That awareness, in most kingdoms, would keep him quiet; in this one, it encourages him to speak the truth.

“Keep that compassion of yours,” he advises. “When the time comes, it will make you a better king.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout about witchers on [tumblr](http://remindmeofthe.tumblr.com) with me!
> 
> The title, by the way, is from this [killer Emily Dickinson poem](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-died-for-beauty/).


End file.
